


Good Morning

by CandyXatu



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Morning After, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vague Timeline Placement, barely??, but like, hhhhhh i dont know how to tag this??, its pretty easily overlooked, martin has a cat change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 14:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16578236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyXatu/pseuds/CandyXatu
Summary: After everything Jon had been through that involved waking up in a strange room, he'd like to think the panic he felt when he woke up, half-naked, in an unfamiliar bed in an equally unfamiliar room, was justified.





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> hhh please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes i wrote this under my desk during a physics lesson and finished it on the car ride home from a sleepover where i got like?? 20 minutes of sleep in total.

 After everything Jon had been through that involved waking up in a strange room, he'd like to think the panic he felt when he woke up, half-naked, in an unfamiliar bed in an equally unfamiliar room, was justified.   
  
The panic dissolved rather quickly, however, when he felt someone shift their weight in the bed beside him, and memories of the night before came back in a rush.  
  
He reached onto the cluttered bedside table and picked up his glasses that he'd discarded, blinking in the sudden clarity of his surroundings, and looked down at his companion.  
  
It was Martin, just as he'd remembered, and he looked completely at peace. For a moment, Jon was mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders, but he was still surprised by the rush of protectiveness that came over him while looking at Martin's sleeping, peaceful figure.  
  
After he'd stared for the maximum amount of time for it to still be considered 'loving' and not 'a little bit creepy', he began to gingerly move the covers and begin to stand. He was very quickly interrupted by a weak, tired groan from Martin.   
  
Jon whipped around towards him, finding Martin rubbing his eyes, still half-asleep. And that was when Jon did something he never expected he'd want to do. He leaned forward and brushed his curls out of Martin's eyes, placing a feather-light kiss to his forehead.  
  
"I'm not leaving," he soothed "I'm just getting my bag."  
  
The dopey, tired smile Martin gave in return made Jon's heart flutter and, for the first time, he didn't try to deny the way Martin made him feel. Admitting his feelings wouldn't do any damage, in fact, Martin would likely make for a better motivator than stress or spite. The two main things Jon had been running on most recently.  
  
Martin flopped back down onto the pillow with a contented sigh and Jon stood, less cautious now, safe in knowing that he wouldn't wake Martin up, and walked gingerly out into the rest of Martin's flat.   
  
Sunlight streamed through the blinds that neither of them had bothered to shut the night before, illuminating the spot Martin had left his ratty, moth-eaten jumper on the floor, where his cat, whose name escaped him, had decided to make her nest.  
  
The rest of the flat was in just the state Jon had feared. Coats were discarded, either slung over chairs or just thrown haphazardly at the coat rack. Shoes were kicked off in seemingly random directions, completely disregarding the perfectly usable shoe rack beside the door. Half full cups of tea that Jon had made to sober Martin up before he made any rash decisions were still sitting in their saucers on the kitchen table.  
  
Jon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he'd payed more attention to where he dumped whatever he'd been carrying.  
  
Now that he'd seen the room, he couldn't just leave it like that. He picked up their coats, hanging them neatly on the coat rack. He gathered their shoes and pushed them neatly beside the door. He scooped up the tea cups and set them down carefully into the sink, vowing to not let Martin wash them.   
  
As he approached, Martin's cat stepped obediently away from the jumper she'd been lying on, staring up at Jon as he folded it over his arms, planning on taking it back to Martin, before meowing at him quietly and hurrying off elsewhere in the flat, looking like she had somewhere to be.  
  
Jon found his bag lying open on the sofa, contents threatening to spill. The tape recorder he carried was on because of _course_ it was. He clicked it off and made a mental note to record over the 12 hours of, what he hoped, was silence. He didn't plan on listening back to it to check.  
  
He made his way carefully back to Martin's room, now on guard and careful not to wake him up again. His efforts clearly didn't seem to be enough, however, as the moment he was back in position, Martin curled up to him, settling his arm over Jon's chest and pressing his face into Jon's neck. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders in return, stroking Martin's clavicle lightly with his fingers.

 

Just as he was beginning to doze off again, Jon was startled by two sets of small paws jumping up onto the bed beside him.   
  
"Hi, Socks," Martin murmured sleepily, holding a hand out to her which she butted her face against with a gentle purr.   
  
_Socks_ , Jon thought, _the most generic cat name possible and it somehow slipped my mind._  
  
Socks settled at the foot of the bed, thankfully far enough away that Jon didn't have to worry about kicking her when he fell back asleep.   
  
In that moment, everything was perfect, Jon was part of the most sickly-sweet, domestic scene he could think of. He was sleeping again within minutes, a smile still tugging at his lips.


End file.
